


Love is a Trackless Domain

by embroiderama



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff sees Jensen running--he's seen it before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Trackless Domain

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand-alone story. It started with a prompt from [](http://rei17.livejournal.com/profile)[**rei17**](http://rei17.livejournal.com/) but went awry. [](http://writingpathways.livejournal.com/profile)[**writingpathways**](http://writingpathways.livejournal.com/), [](http://jdsgirlbev.livejournal.com/profile)[**jdsgirlbev**](http://jdsgirlbev.livejournal.com/) and [](http://lovely-lady-j.livejournal.com/profile)[**lovely_lady_j**](http://lovely-lady-j.livejournal.com/) took a look at this for me, but most of them told me not to do it this way, so don't blame them. OTOH, you can blame [](http://elanurel.livejournal.com/profile)[**elanurel**](http://elanurel.livejournal.com/) if you like. ;) The title is from Dave Carter's "Tanglewood Tree."

Jeff missed the rain sometimes. He never would have thought it when he was a kid, slogging through the puddles so that he ended up with damp feet in school half the time, but it was one of those background things that you only missed when they weren't around anymore. He liked the LA sunshine just fine, but when the Southern California skies did decide to dump out some precious rain Jeff liked to enjoy it to the fullest.

The new house had a covered veranda in front, and Jeff made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the railing and a beer in his hand, flannel pulled over his t-shirt to combat the chill of the cold front. Bisou sat on the floor at his side, just barely within reach of his fingertips. Movement down the street caught Jeff's attention, and through the haze of pouring rain he could see a man running. Jeff imagined the squelch of socked feet in running shoes and shook his head.

"Look at that idiot," he muttered to Bisou. The guy didn't look like he was having much of a good time.

Bisou perked her head up and then stood, lifting her muzzle up over the railing.

"Rain smells good, huh?"

She whimpered and then ran to the edge of the veranda before looking back at Jeff, begging for permission with her big brown eyes.

"Go on ahead if you want to get all wet." Jeff wasn't looking forward to getting wet dog shaken all over him, but he knew she was a good girl, she'd stay in the yard. Just as that thought crossed him mind, Bisou reached the border of his yard and looked back at Jeff again before bounding out into the street.

Jeff stood up and whistled as loudly as he could against the pouring rain. "Bisou!" She slowed for a second and turned back to cast a "don't you get it, Dad?" look at Jeff before speeding up again. She didn't stop until she got within a few feet of the runner. The guy didn't seem to notice her, and now that he was closer Jeff could see that he was jogging a little unsteadily, head down against the rain.

As Jeff took off down the street, Bisou circled around in front of the runner. Jeff had a second to imagine him tripping over Bisou, hurting her, hurting himself, but then the guy stopped running and slumped forward, bracing his hands on his thighs. Jeff couldn't see the guy's face, but the line of his back looked familiar, the tilt of his legs under his jogging shorts. He tilted his head up to look at Bisou and Jeff could see water running down the planes of a familiar face.

"Jensen!"

Jensen stood up quickly, wobbling a little on his feet, and then Jeff was within arm's reach. He grabbed Jensen's arm, his fingers slipping a little on wet skin.

"What the hell are you doing, Jen?"

"I--" Jensen broke off, shivering visibly. Bisou danced around at their feet, excited and confused at seeing a familiar human in such a strange place as the middle of the street. "Running. I didn't mean--"

It might have been possible for Jensen to look more pathetic, but Jeff wasn't sure how. Water dripped from the spiky edges of Jensen's hair, sending rivulets streaming down his face, and freckles stood out on his cheeks below droplet-heavy eyelashes. In the year since they'd hooked up, the year since Jensen had blown him off, Jeff had found a kind of comfort in making sure not to care about Jensen. Too bad that facade was impossible to maintain when he was standing in the rain getting drenched, holding onto Jensen's arm as he shivered and looked miserable as hell.

"Come on." Jeff tugged on Jensen's arm, and Jensen gave in, following Jeff across the street and onto the lawn as Bisou dogged their steps from behind. As they stepped under the veranda's roof and the rain wasn't falling on them anymore, Jensen stopped.

"L-look, I didn't mean--"

Jeff sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to find that Zen place where Jensen didn't mean much of anything to him. "I'm not going to let you die of exposure, and I'm pretty fucking drenched myself, so let's get the hell inside."

Jensen nodded and shook loose of Jeff's grip. Jeff opened the door and let Bisou slip inside first before following, all too aware of Jensen at his back. Before the door finished banging closed, Bisou was shaking herself off, spraying water all over Jeff's wet jeans and Jensen's bare legs, and among the three of them they were making a mess out of the ceramic floor of the foyer.

Jensen hugged his arms around his body and looked down at the puddle growing around his feet.

Jeff wanted to reach out and hug him warm, and he really hated feeling that way. "You turn into a die-hard jogger in the past year or what?"

"No, I just--Jared keeps trying to sell me on running. He loves it, says it's like meditation cause he gets too damn bored sitting still. I thought--I was trying to figure some stuff out and I j--ju--" Jensen sneezed, loud and hard, surprising himself as much as Jeff.

"Shit, come on." Jeff led Jensen to the downstairs bathroom and opened up the linen closet. He threw an oversize bath sheet at Jensen and grabbed a second for himself, stripping off his shirts when trying to dry himself off made him suddenly aware of the clammy feeling of drenched cotton sticking to his chest and arms. He looked up and caught Jensen looking back.

"Hold on," Jeff said as he stepped out of the room. "I'll be right back."

Jeff jogged up the stairs to his bedroom and straight over to the closet. He grabbed a dry henley off a hanger and then just stood leaning his head against the door and trying to figure out what he was doing. He thought about Jensen, dripping on the bathroom floor downstairs--there was no point in hiding out. He pulled on his own shirt and a dry pair of pants and then grabbed some clean things for Jensen.

Arms full with sweat pants, a shirt, hoodie and socks, he went back downstairs. Bisou stood at the foot of the stairs looking up at him with her tail thumping on the floor as if to say, "Aren't you excited? Jensen is here!"

"I don't know, girl." He murmured to her. "I just don't know."

When he walked down the hallway, Jeff found the bathroom door open as he'd left it and Jensen sitting on the closed toilet lid, towel wrapped around his shoulders. His face was pale over the dark green terry cloth and he looked obscenely young under the room's bright white lights. Before Jeff's common sense could veto the motion, he was reaching out, pushing the damp hair back from Jensen's forehead.

He stood there for a long breath as Jensen leaned into the touch and then pulled his hand away, stuffing it into his pocket. He cleared his throat and dumped the pile of clothes on the counter. "You oughta change." He turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

Out in the kitchen, Jeff put together a pot of coffee. It was his own kind of meditation--grinding the beans, inhaling the rich smell of them, measuring them into the filter and then listening as it brewed. He closed his eyes, enjoying the rising, caffeinated steam, and only opened them when he heard scuffing footsteps enter the room. Jensen looked oddly bulky in Jeff's sweats, but they didn't fit him badly, the lengths just as right on Jensen as they were on Jeff. His hair was laying down flat, any product that had been in it dissolved by the rain and toweled away.

"Thanks for the clothes." Jensen shifted uncomfortably on his socked feet. "I didn't mean to put you out like this."

"You just felt like running down my street on the rainiest day LA's seen in months."

Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I only live a couple miles away, not like I fuckin' drove over here to stalk you or something. I--"

"I didn't mean that, man. You can run wherever you want. Obviously. I just didn't think you were that much of a fan of the sport."

Jensen sat down at the table, folding his arms in front of him. "Sometimes I just can't stop thinking about things, feel like I'm going crazy. I thought if I could get out and really run I could get outside of my own head, you know? Or get the thoughts outside and leave them behind."

"Any luck with that?" Jeff leaned back against the counter and stopped himself from crossing his arms in front of his chest, too. He had nothing to be defensive about, damn it.

Jensen snorted. "What do you think? I run miles trying to stop thinking about you, and my feet take me to your street."

Jeff swallowed against his shock. "You were running because of me?"

"Running away from you." Jensen traced circles on the surface of the table with his fingertip. "Just like I've been doing for months. Lot of good it's done me."

"Do you--" Jeff's throat dried up, and he coughed to clear it. "Do you know what it took for me to not run after you?"

Jensen's whole body went still, and he looked up at Jeff. "I'm tired of running. Do you think you could just, you know, catch me?"

Jeff shook his head and looked down, looked at the outline of his shoes against the glossy tile floor. "I'm with somebody."

"You... Oh." Jensen's voice dropped flat.

Jeff couldn't look up to see Jensen's face, but he could imagine the way the shock would look in those expressive eyes, that mouth dropped open in an O. He could imagine himself reaching out, thumb tracing the curve of lips, but he'd been down that road before. He'd seen where it ended. "It's real. I'm happy, and I won't throw it away. Won't throw him away."

"I get it."

Jeff heard the angry edge to Jensen's voice and looked up to see Jensen's jaw tense, his eyes shining as he looked off to the side. His shoulders were slumped forward, Jeff's sweatshirt suddenly looking far baggier on him than it had before.

"I ran too long." Jensen swallowed hard, looked straight at Jeff. "I lost you."


End file.
